


Hair Trigger

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [72]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: Jared suddenly has a lot of sympathy for Bryce thinking that he would fuck up like, fucking. Because now that he’s just sitting here, thinking, not clouded by like, lust, or distracted by Bryce’s body, what ifhefucks up? Like by all means it should be something like, instinctive, but people fuck up supposedly instinctive things all the time. What if comes in two seconds flat and is so disappointing Bryce never wants to do it again? Or like, what if hedoespsychologically scar Bryce with his dick? He doesn’t want to psychologically scar his boyfriend with his dick, that soundsterrible.





	Hair Trigger

There’s this weird kind of mood that sets in when you basically just agreed to have sex with your boyfriend — well, Jared’s pretty sure he agreed, or, like, more accurately, threatened, to make _love_ to his boyfriend — but you had that talk like, with all your clothes on, sitting in the living room, in the middle of the day. Like, had they had the conversation buck naked and half-hard, they’d probably be getting to it right now, but as it is, Jared doesn’t know the etiquette here. Do they like, walk hand and hand to the bedroom? Start stripping right here? Who the hell knows.

Jared doesn’t feel uncomfortable with Bryce often, honestly, but right now — well, there’s a silence, and it’s not comfortable, and Jared should just — do something, kiss Bryce or offer his hand or hell, just walk to the bedroom. Bryce would probably follow.

“Why is this awkward?” Jared asks plaintively, and Bryce laughs, and then just like that, it isn’t awkward at all.

“I’m going to take a shower, okay?” Bryce asks. “And you like —”

“Wait with absolutely no patience?” Jared says. “And possibly end up upside down again?”

“Yeah, that,” Bryce says, wandering into the bathroom after pressing a kiss to the corner of Jared’s mouth.

Jared does not immediately go lie upside down on the couch, so he’s grown as a person in the last half hour. Instead he double and triple checks they’ve got all the necessary stuff in their room, which they do, then sits on the bed, wondering if he should be like — Bryce is presumably going to come out in a towel, so Jared’s probably overdressed. He takes his shirt off.

After a minute, he puts it back on. It looks, he doesn’t know, like he’s assuming. Not that he isn’t assuming, and it’s not even — they’re obviously having sex, so why shouldn’t he be taking his clothes off? 

Why is this _hard_?

Jared suddenly has a lot of sympathy for Bryce thinking that he would fuck up like, fucking. Because now that he’s just sitting here, thinking, not clouded by like, lust, or distracted by Bryce’s body, what if _he_ fucks up? Like by all means it should be something like, instinctive, but people fuck up supposedly instinctive things all the time. What if comes in two seconds flat and is so disappointing Bryce never wants to do it again? Or like, what if he _does_ psychologically scar Bryce with his dick? He doesn’t want to psychologically scar his boyfriend with his dick, that sounds _terrible_.

“Hey,” Bryce says from the doorway, hair curling wet over his forehead. Either he took the fastest shower of all time, which is unlikely, because his showers take _forever_ , or Jared just lost a chunk of his life to panic. “Are you freaking out?”

Jared considers denying it. “I’m freaking out a little,” Jared says. “I don’t know why.”

“Me too,” Bryce says. “But like, you’re the one who always says we like, rock in bed.”

“We do,” Jared says. “That’s true.”

Bryce walks over, and once he’s in reaching distance, Jared pretty much faceplants right into his chest. Bryce’s skin is still a little damp, shower flushed. He runs his fingers through Jared’s hair a few times before tugging lightly on the strands.

“It’s not nice to pull hair,” Jared mumbles.

“You like it,” Bryce says, which isn’t exactly wrong. “Quit freaking out, you’ll freak me out.”

“Kay,” Jared says, presses a kiss to Bryce’s sternum before pulling back. It’s weirdly easy to pull himself together if Bryce like, needs him to? Because Jared can see this turning into them both freaking out at each other, and that sounds way more psychologically scarring than his dick. “You look nice.”

“I’m just — wet,” Bryce says. “You see me like this, like, every day.”

“And you look nice every day,” Jared says. “Huh, apparently I’m getting on the mushy stuff early.”

Bryce huffs out a laugh.

“You want to do this, huh?” Jared says. 

“I—” Bryce says, and when Jared’s looking up, he’s frowning.

“Last time I ask, I promise,” Jared says. “I just — need you to say it once.”

“I want this, okay?” Bryce asks.

“Okay,” Jared says, then is kind of at a loss. Like, Bryce is mostly naked, so that’s one thing covered, but he’s still not sure how they go from ‘mutually agreeing sex is happening’ to ‘sex is actually happening’. He could have sworn it was easy like, every other time, but. “So like, they say it’s easier on your stomach.” 

“I don’t want to,” Bryce says immediately.

“It’d be like, your tattoo,” Jared says, then at Bryce’s blank look, “You know, you’re afraid of needles, so if you didn’t have to look—”

“This isn’t like _needles_ , Jared,” Bryce says. “Besides, how are you supposed to look deep into my eyes and hold my hand if I’m not on my back?”

“Touche,” Jared mutters. “You—”

“Yes,” Bryce says, exasperated.

“Okay, okay,” Jared says. “Just let me know if—”

Bryce scowls at him.

“Fine, I won’t care about your comfort at all,” Jared says.

“ _Thank_ you,” Bryce huffs.

Jared reaches into the bedside table, takes out the lube and condoms. “In case you changed your mind about the condoms.”

“Are we just — getting to it?” Bryce says, wary sounding. “Cause you’re like, still dressed.”

“I just figure they should be handy,” Jared says, then, remembering, oh, every other time they’ve fucked, “Wanna make out?”

“At least take your jeans off first,” Bryce says, which Jared figures is fair.

It’s not that Jared like, forgets that there’s an endgame here, that they have, you know, _plans_ for this afternoon, it is very much at the forefront of his mind, but kissing Bryce makes it feel more, he doesn’t know — natural? Less like this discrete event that will suddenly happen and more like an extension of everything else they do? Which it is, he knows it is, but knowing something logically isn’t the same way as feeling it, and now it’s just like — normal? Jared can’t think of the right word, but.

Bryce pulls back after a minute, turns his head when Jared tries to catch his mouth again. “Can you like, do it now?” Bryce asks, this tension in his voice, so Jared guesses that whole natural feeling isn’t mutual.

“I was kind of enjoying this,” Jared says.

“Jared, come on,” Bryce says. 

“I told you I’m not going to rush,” Jared says. “I want to make sure you’re like, actually ready, not like, rushing to get it over it.”

“I’m good, seriously,” Bryce says. “Can we please just—”

“Romance is dead,” Jared says, but strips locker room fast before reaching for the lube. Bryce beats him, but then, he just had to ditch a towel. He’s half hard, which Jared is kind of relieved about, but also like, obviously isn’t good enough, so Jared’s got some work to do. He’s discovered he’s pretty good at multi-tasking sucking dick and fingering, so it’s working out, at least until Bryce’s hand lands in his hair again, pulling slightly, but less in the sexy way and more the actually pulling Jared away way. 

“You’re _distracting_ me,” Bryce says.

“God forbid I _distract you with a blowjob_ ,” Jared says. 

“Just—” Bryce says.

“You’re acting like this is like, some punishment,” Jared says. “You’re allowed to enjoy it. You always have before. And like, I kind of don’t want to fuck you if it’s something you’re planning on _enduring_.”

“I just don’t want—” Bryce says, then, scowling, “You’re good at it.”

“What, sucking your dick?” Jared asks. “So sorry.”

“Fuck off,” Bryce mutters. “I just don’t want to come before—”

“Dude, you’ve got a refractory period of like twenty minutes, I think we’ll survive if you do,” Jared says.

“Whatever,” Bryce says, but he quits protesting Jared give him pleasure, how fucking dare him, or whatever. Jared kind of has to be more careful now that it’s like — yeah, he’s fingered Bryce before, but that was like, a complementary addition to other things, not actual preparation, and he keeps going through that mental checklist, the one thing like, every single guide had in common — there is apparently no such thing as too much lube — completely ignoring Bryce trying to rush him through it, until like, the tenth time Bryce huffs that _obviously_ he’s ready for a third finger, come the fuck on.

“I told you I was going to go slow,” Jared says. 

“This isn’t slow,” Bryce says. “This is like — you know you have to be somewhere tomorrow, right?”

His tone is so bitchy. It is ridiculous how fond of him Jared is right now.

“Quit backseat, like, fingering,” Jared says, but does, after a minute, and some more lube — “ _Seriously_?”, Bryce says, but Jared is one-hundred percent following the never enough lube rule — nudge his ring finger in. Bryce goes tight around him, adjusting, and Jared just — he is trying so, so hard not to think about how tight he’s going to be around his dick because if he thinks that he’s going to —

“Come _on_ ,” Bryce says, and Jared is not so good at ignoring him this time. He’d like to say it was because Bryce seems ready, but it is probably not as altruistic a reason. 

“Condom, or?” Jared asks.

“Don’t want it,” Bryce says, and Jared takes him at his word, carefully slicking himself — like, careful in the making sure there is a lot of lube, but also maybe a little gingerly because he’s afraid he’s not going to last, and weirdly Bryce bitching at him was not actually as big a turn off as it should have been. Bryce is only half hard, but the guides like, mentioned that was pretty normal, and Jared is _definitely_ going to get bitched at if he does anything about it, he’s pretty sure.

“Are you—”

“Jared,” Bryce says.

Shit, he promised last time he’d stop asking. Jared needs to figure out a question that doesn’t end with ‘sure’.

“—ready for me to rock your world?” is what comes out of his mouth.

Jared, you _moron_.

Bryce blinks up at him for a second, then bursts out laughing, which is what Jared deserves, honestly. Rock his world. _Fuck_.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that,” Jared says.

“Rock my world,” Bryce wheezes.

“That’s not pretending you didn’t hear that,” Jared says, then, as Bryce like, hunches in on himself with hilarity, mutters, “It’s not _that_ funny.”

Bryce continues to laugh, and Jared frowns down at him. He is like ninety-nine percent sure someone laughing hysterically at you is not the way this is supposed to go. 

“Totally ready for you to rock my world, baby,” Bryce says between giggles, more relaxed than he’s been since he came in the door, so like, maybe it’s a good thing Jared made a complete and utter fool of himself. He did it for Bryce’s sake, obviously.

“Maybe I don’t even want to now,” Jared mutters.

Bryce doesn’t look like he believes him, which is fair, because he really, _really_ does. Just. After Bryce stops laughing. Laughter hurts boners. And feelings.

It takes literal minutes, but Bryce finally stops laughing at him, though he’s still smiling, wide, which feels a little like laughter too, but also just like, fond.

“Okay,” Bryce says, a little breathless from laughter. “I think I’m done?”

“You _sure_?” Jared asks.

“Pretty sure,” Bryce says. “You should fuck me.”

“I, um,” Jared says, glancing down, then, defensively, “Getting laughed at isn’t hot.”

“Sorry,” Bryce says, not sounding sorry at all, then, “That’s easy to fix,” kind of arrogantly, but like, Jared’s eighteen and about to fuck his boyfriend for the first time, and Bryce is good with his hands, so he is very quickly proven right, and they’re back on non-laughing track.

“I know I’m not like, allowed to ask you if you’re ready,” Jared says. “But—”

“Rock my world,” Bryce whispers, shaking a little under him.

“Oh my god, I’m not gonna fuck you if you keep laughing,” Jared says, letting his head drop against Bryce’s shoulder.

Bryce like, giggles in his ear, before pressing a kiss to Jared’s temple. “I love you,” Bryce says.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying mushy things, remember?” Jared says.

“It’s not mushy,” Bryce says. “Just the truth.”

“ _That_ was mushy,” Jared says. “You too, you know?”

“I know,” Bryce says, with this quiet confidence that settles something in Jared. Like, why the hell he even nervous? It’s them. Everything they do is good, and obviously this isn’t going to be the exception.

“Seriously, prepare to have your world rocked,” Jared says, and Bryce is laughing again when Jared carefully guides himself in. It’s pretty much everything described — hot, and tight, but that’s so insufficient. It’s fucking _stifling_ , and that’s usually a negative word, but if there’s a positive stifling, it’s this. 

Jared’s frankly fucking amazed he manages to inch himself in — well, it’s more millimetre by millimetre, or feels like it, because _jesus_ , without giving in to the competing urges to stay very still until he’s got a handle on himself, or just fuck _in_.

“Can you—” Bryce says, while Jared very desperately tries to regain at least some composure, then, “You can move, you know.”

“Not if you want this to last more than a minute,” Jared says through his teeth.

“Okay,” Bryce says, then, about two seconds later, “But you can—”

“You are so bossy, oh my god,” Jared says, 

“So much for mushy,” Bryce says, and Jared laughs, startled, looks up to meet Bryce’s eyes. He looks — good. Well, he always looks good, Jared wasn’t lying about that, even at his worst he’s the hottest person Jared’s ever seen in his life, and Jared’s still kind of dumbfounded he gets to do this, touch him like this, kind of hopes he never gets quite used to it. But he looks — calm isn’t the right word, but not like — it looks like the nerves are gone, like the second it was something happening, rather than something anticipated. He looks like he’d take whatever Jared gives him — while bossing him around for more, apparently. 

It takes a minute, but Jared finally gathers himself enough that he can move without completely embarrassing himself. He honestly can’t decide whether to look at Bryce’s face, flushed and gorgeous, or where Bryce is stretched tight around him, watch himself fuck in, and neither are probably good for his stamina, so he opts out of the decision entirely, shifts up — Bryce makes a noise that should be fucking _criminal_ — so he can press his mouth to Bryce’s. It’s more sharing breath than anything else — Jared is usually good at multi-tasking but it’s _really_ difficult to kiss someone when you’re fucking breathless from the feel of them, so it’s mostly sharing humid breath, their foreheads pressed together, as Jared fucks into him as slow as he can manage, which is — honestly not. 

He tries, at least, not to be a completely selfish prick, and thankfully he can tell, this close, when he’s found Bryce’s prostate, Bryce’s breath hitching, fingers going tight around Jared’s bicep, just on the right edge of painful. 

“Touch yourself?” Jared manages, because if he can’t even kiss him, there’s no way he can jerk him off without losing what tenuous control he has, and he wants Bryce there first, wants to feel him go even tighter around him, watch him come on Jared’s dick, even more than he wants to come himself.

He shouldn’t have even _thought_ that, because his very tenuous control snaps, Jared ducking his head against Bryce’s shoulder as his hips snap forward without his permission, deep — fucking balls deep and Bryce’s fingers wrapping around his cock, trapped between them, Bryce’s lashes shadows against his cheeks, Bryce’s mouth plush red from Jared’s mouth, Bryce tight everywhere, his fingers on Jared’s arm, around himself, furnace hot and tight around Jared’s dick, Bryce who wants to keep Jared inside him, wants Jared to come in him, who’ll be fucking _dripping_ with him.

It’s game over way too fucking fast after that, and Jared comes so hard it’s almost painful, Bryce around him, beneath him, Bryce’s uneven, hitching breath against his ear.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he hears, kind of dimly through the pounding in his ears, Bryce’s hand brushing his stomach with every stroke as he jerks himself off, hard and fast. Bryce goes even tighter around him when he comes, and it’s too much for Jared’s oversensitive cock, but he takes it. Bryce’s orgasm face is probably objectively ridiculous — Jared’s sure his is too, but fuck, he looks beautiful like that, and Jared’s so in love with him he feels actively crazy with it.

Jared pulls out after they’ve both mostly got their breath back, slow, mumbles a “Sorry,” when Bryce hisses, probably oversensitive himself. Jared needs a Kleenex or ten, but they feel too far. Honestly, Kleenex probably won’t do it anyway, they both need a shower, but all Jared does is lie back down, half on Bryce.

“I’ll, um,” Jared mumbles. “Shower?”

“In a bit,” Bryce says. “C’mere.”

“I’m literally on top of you,” Jared says, but nudges himself closer until he’s touching Bryce basically everywhere. Bryce starts running his fingers through Jared’s hair, and yeah, showers are stupid, what was Jared thinking? Moving is not happening right now.

“That was okay, right?” Jared asks, after a minute, because Bryce hasn’t said anything, and that might be bad. “Like, I know it was probably — don’t say it was too short to tell — but like, it was okay?”

“It was good,” Bryce says. “Great.”

“Yeah?” Jared asks, a little self-consciously.

“Yeah,” Bryce says, pushing back the sweaty hair on Jared’s forehead.

“Good,” Jared says.

“But you totally lied,” Bryce says, then, just as Jared’s tensing up, “Where was my mushy making love?”

“We technically make love like, every time we have sex, so whatever,” Jared says. “And I’m sorry I’m so into you you make me literally speechless.”

“That was mushy,” Bryce says with satisfaction. 

“Yeah,” Jared says, and kisses his shoulder. “It was good, though? Not like, asking for a performance report or anything, just — you’re good?”

“I’m good,” Bryce says, reaching for his hand and threading their fingers.

“We can do the mushy holding hands and looking into each others eyes thing now if you want,” Jared says.

“Sure,” Bryce says, soft, and Jared immediately makes himself a liar, eyes fluttering shut as he leans up to kiss him.


End file.
